


Vice Principal

by deviltakethehindmost



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Slow Build, everyone else can see they are made for each other, javert is a an idiot, valjean is totally in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:28:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviltakethehindmost/pseuds/deviltakethehindmost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valjean is Principal that everyone thinks is wonderful, Javert is a history teacher that thinks he is anything but and also hates everyone. Meanwhile Javert is doing everything he can to drag his class to passing at the end of the year while dealing with everything going wrong around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Javert was good at his job and he enjoyed it. Teaching teenagers was rewarding in a strange, sort of self destructive way. Trying to teach them about history was even worse.

“Can anyway tell me who was leader of Hungary during the 1956 uprising?”

He had fully anticipated the blank looks that followed his question. This class was filled with some of the most intelligent seventeen and eighteen year olds he had ever taught but they just didn't care. Usually they just sat in the corner, planning their next school-wide revolution. 

“Marius, maybe you could enlighten us?” Javert asked, waking the idiotic boy from the trance he was currently in staring at Cosette from across the room. He wondered momentarily if the Principal was aware of this boy's adoration for his daughter. 

“Emmmm...well…” Marius murmured, trying his best to delay having to answer for as long as possible.

“Come out with it, boy!”

“Hitler?”

For a few moments Javert stared at the boy despairingly, quickly losing the last shred of hope he had for this class.

“You are aware that Adolf Hitler committed suicide in 1945?”

Marius nodded and Javert almost sighed in relief. At least the boy was not a complete fool.

“And are you aware that 1956 is over a decade after 1945?”

The boy nodded again.

“Then could you kindly explain how exactly the bloody Fuhrer was leading Hungary ten years after he shot himself in the head?” Javert finished, as Marius managed to turn an even brighter shade of red.

“I didn't hear you ask the question,” he admitted.

“Of course you didn't,” Javert sighed, “That's always the problem with the lot of you. None of you ever pay the slightest bit of attention. You could all pass this exam, some with very good grades, but no, you'd rather day dream or gaze lovingly or create plans to overthrow the patriarchy.”

When he was done speaking he at least expected one or two words of protestation. It was much worse when they all just continued to stare at him. He threw himself down in his chair and held his head in his hands. These kids thought they could get away with anything thanks to the Principal.

“That's it,” he said, “Talk amongst yourself while I mark your essays. Although I doubt there will be much to it.”

*

School had just finished when Javert received the email asking him to pop into the Principal's office on his way out. He didn't like the sound of that at all, mainly because he usually did everything he could to avoid having particularly long conversations with the man. So as he made his way down the corridor towards the office he began to create a list of reasons that he couldn't stay very long.

After briefly considering telling the Principal he had the Bubonic Plague, he knocked on the door and entered. 

“Javert! I didn't expect you to come so quickly!” Valjean exclaimed with a little bit too much enthusiasm. His usual grin was plastered on his charming face.

“You told me to come as quickly as possible,” Javert replied, not returning the smile. 

“Well, yes,” Valjean agreed, “But no one usually pays that much attention.”

“I do. I pay attention to everything.”

“Of that I am very aware,” Valjean said, his grin turning almost to a grimace.

Jean Valjean was the youngest Principal the school had ever seen, at only thirty one years old. No one had expected much of the man but he'd managed to win the majority of them round as soon as they first met him. He was ridiculously charming and charismatic and apparently handsome, although Javert failed to see it. 

There had been almost a minute of silence and even Javert could tell it was becoming uncomfortable.

“So why am I here?” he asked, causing Valjean to stop his rather unnerving staring that was an odd habit of his. 

“I'm sure you know the Vice Principal post is currently vacant,” Valjean began to explain before he was cut off by the other man.

“If you want recommendations I'm probably not the best person to ask,” Javer interjected, as Valjean gave him an almost annoyed look.

“No, I don't want your recommendation.”

This caused Javert to pause and look at the other man, who was beginning to grin again. What he thought was about to happen could not happen; he hadn't even applied for the job! He had assumed that Valjean would want a second in command that he could easily get along with.

“I want you,” Valjean finished and then blushed a hilarious shade of red when he realised the implications of his statement, then quickly added, “As my Vice Principal.”

Javert was not a man who was usually lost for words. In fact, he would go as far to say that he always knew exactly what to say in any situation. However, he would no longer be able to say this as he was currently staring at Valjean with his mouth hanging open.

“Are you ok? Surely you must have expected this, you're the best teacher we've got.”

When Javert continued to stare Valjean realised that Javert really had not been expecting this at all. It took him four and a half minutes before he could regain the ability to speak.  
“Thank you very much,” he muttered, then after a long pause, “Will that be all?”

“Yes. I'll see you tomorrow, Vice Principal Javert.”

With that Javert practically stumbled out of the door.

*

Javert rushed up the stairs to his flat and, after a small problem with his keys, he flew through the door. 

“Ed! Ed! Where are you? You're not going to believe what happened today!” he shouted, jogging through the rooms until he arrived in the bedroom, totally unprepared for the sight that greeted him. 

In their bedroom, stood his boyfriend of four and a half years with a fully packed suitcase. Ed had obviously not expected Javert home so early, judging by the horrified look he was currently giving him.

“I'm sorry, I thought I'd be gone by the time you came home.”

But for the second time that day Javert could do nothing but stare. 

“This hasn't been working for a long time now and I just can't take it anymore,” he explained, taking a step or two toward Javert.

Continuing to stare, Javert stood frozen when Ed took his hand and kissed his forehead, softly. He watched him return to his suitcase, lift it up and make his way toward the door. Finally he managed to break himself out of it.

“I got Vice Principal.”

There was a harsh laugh from the doorway behind him.

“Because that's all that fucking matters to you, isn't it? That stupid fucking job.”


	2. Chapter 2

Valjean was not usually the type to judge anyone by their outward appearance. However, this morning there was no way of avoiding the fact that his newly appointed Vice Principal looked like utter shit. Javert looked as though he hadn't slept at all: his usually perfectly gelled back hair was tousled and unkept, the skin under his eyes looked bruised it was so black and his eyes themselves were bloodshot, in fact, they seemed more red than white.

“Are you hungover?”

It seemed as though Javert actually had to take about half a minute to process this question, before he could even think about formulating a response. Eventually his blank look switched to a glare and Valjean prepared himself for the backlash.

“No.”

That was it. He'd been expecting harsh words, insults and slamming doors but instead nothing. His face had returned to the same vacant stare.

“Okay then,” Valjean said, then continued in a softer tone, “Would you care to tell me what's going on then?”

“Nothing.”

As Valjean continued to watch Javert closely, the other man stared straight back at him as if he really did not care about what he was saying. This was not how he had hoped the first day with his new Vice Principal would begin. His reason for choosing him was simple enough: Javert was a brilliant teacher who was always the same, reliable, emotionless man. Until today. For some bizarre reason Javert had picked today to finally show that he was actually a properly functioning human being.

“You are not leaving this office until you tell me what's wrong and we take steps to get it sorted,” Valjean explained, his calmness surprising even himself.

Javert snorted loudly, then shook his head but didn't say a word.

“Do you have any idea how bad this looks? It's your first day as Vice Principal and this happens,” Valjean continued, when he realised there was little hope of a response, “Do you even care about this?”

“Personal reasons.”

“What?” Valjean asked, momentarily startled by Javert actually responding.

“I'm having personal problems that I do not wish to discuss,” Javert replied and with that stood up and strode towards the door.

Before Valjean could call him back the door was closed and he was sitting in an empty office.

*

When Valjean next saw Javert he was at the other end of the staffroom and looked as though that morning had never happened. His hair was totally perfect. In fact he was beginning to consider that it had been a bizarre dream until Javert spotted him and looked totally panicked.  
He immediately turned and slipped out of the door. However, Valjean had no intention of letting him escape that easily so he quickly followed and quickly caught him.

“Stop right there,” he ordered and was surprised to find that Javert did so straight away.

“What is it?”

“I think we need to talk,” Valjean said to the back of Javert's head. 

“Well I don't think we do,” Javert replied, then began to walk away when Valjean's hand grasped his arm and stopped him, “Everything will be fine. I can assure you that it will never happen again, I will be nothing put professional.”

“Shut up,” Valjean sighed, causing Javert to actually turn to look at him for the first time, “I know all of that. I just want to make sure that you're ok.”

At this Javert actually seemed to soften. His eyes betrayed his emotions and it made Valjean's heart melt. He was suddenly filled with the urge to protect him at any cost and also hug him for a long time. So he did exactly that.

“What the -”

Before Javert could finish he found himself with Valjean's strong arms wrapped around him in a terrifyingly tight embrace. Valjean found him rather hard to hug, he was all angles and sticky out bones and awkward edges. He was obviously not exactly a fan of hugs either, judging by the fact that he was just standing there. Eventually, feeling as though he had been sufficiently comforting in his hugging, he let a startled looking Javert go.

“Please never do that again.”

“I can't promise anything,” Valjean grinned, which widened even further when he noticed the almost smile playing on Javert's lips.

“You're an idiot,” Javert replied, properly smiling now as Valjean pretended to look offended at the accusation.

They stood there smiling at each other for a while, which Valjean thought was nice really. He liked Javert a lot, he always had and had always wanted to have a closer relationship with him. 

“Was it girl problems?”

“What?” Javert sounded genuinely shocked and confused by the question, his smile all but disappearing.

“Earlier,” he responded, “It was relationship problems, wasn't it? It's always a woman.”

Javert shook his head as Valjean noticed the colour rising in the man's cheeks. It appeared as though Javert was struggling to work out exactly what to say. A couple of times he went to speak, then changed his mind, falling silent again.

“For an intelligent man you are scarily oblivious sometimes,” he almost laughed, his cheeks turning scarlet.   
Now he was confused. Valjean had been so convinced that it had to be that. He could see no other logical explanation for his Vice Principal's behaviour this morning. Personal reasons, that's what he'd said. So it was either friends or family. If it was family he would surely have just told his boss and yet he had not. It had to be friends, in other words, relationship problems. He had been so sure, that was the only reason he'd asked about girl problems. 

Then it dawned on him. God, Javert was right, he was such an idot. 

The blushing man that stood before him seemed to realise that Valjean had managed to catch up with the situation and blushed even further while averting his eyes.

“Are you going to say anything? I'd really like it if you did actually said something soon,” Javert said, his voice soft, quiet and not at all confident.

Suddenly Valjean found himself blushing at the ridiculously improper thoughts that came into his head, most of which involved pinning Javert against the wall. Then again it was hardly the first time he'd thought about that.

“Whoever the guy was he didn't deserve you.”

Javert looked genuinely touched and Valjean couldn't resist giving him another hug.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to update!

Every year Javert always seems to end up chaperoning at the school's Halloween dance. He doesn't enjoy it but this year it's a better than the alternative which is sitting in his flat alone. Deep down he knows that this is the reason Valjean asked him but they're both pretending neither have realised he's desperately lonely. 

Although Valjean is irritating and interfering, Javert is growing accustomed to spending so much time in his company. He knows Valjean enjoys it a lot. Sometimes he catches the other man smiling at him in a strangely caring way. Over the past few weeks they've even been having conversations about their personal lives. That was not something Javert had anticipated would happen. 

The dance had finished about half an hour ago and Javert had stayed to tidy things up, as he always did. Of course, Valjean had insisted on staying to help. If he hummed the chorus of 'The Time Warp' one more time, Javert would not be held responsible for his actions.

“Do you not know any other songs?” he asked, the annoyance evident in his tone. Immediately, he noticed Valjean was grinning at him. 

“Would you rather I put some music on instead?” Valjean replied, walking towards the stereo equipment.

“Anything but that stupid song again,” he snapped.

As he continued picking up the plastic cups that were littering almost every available surface, the music began to play. Eventually he recognised the song, it was the last song they'd played at the dance. He couldn't remember the name but it was obvious that Valjean knew the song very well. That was judging by the way he was singing along and dancing quite terribly. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, incredulously. 

Yet Valjean continued flailing his arms and legs in a somewhat manic fashion. 

“Dancing,” the Principal said, “I didn't get a chance to at the dance so I'm seizing this opportunity.”

“Just because you can, does not mean you should,” Javert replied, however, he couldn't help a small smile forming on his lips.

Then Valjean began to dance over to him, in a sort of strange shuffle. 

“Would you care to join me?”

“There is absolutely not way on this Earth that I'm going to dance. As you can imagine I'm not the sort of person who dances,” he explained, the panic began to rise within him as Valjean shuffled closer.

“Ever?” he asked.

“Never ever.”

Valjean actually chuckled at this and Javert, to his own surprise, had to restrain himself from joining in. It was odd how easy it was becoming to interact with Valjean. In fact, they were probably becoming something close to friends and that was downright terrifying.

*

The next morning things became a lot less civil and polite. Javert had spent most of the morning in his office with a particularly troublesome group of pupils. As Vice Principal he had to deal with most of the disciplinary situations and today was just the same.

Grantaire and Eponine had almost totally destroyed an art classroom. After they had been caught it had become fairly obvious that they were incredibly drunk. Javert was really not in the mood to deal with two drunk, uncooperative teenagers, first thing in the morning. 

So he'd sent them home and informed them that they shouldn't bother coming in for the rest of the week. He also planned on reporting the damage to the police and having them charged. 

“Javert, may I speak with you a moment?” Valjean asked, leaning around the door and giving him a look that said it really wasn't a question.

He had sat down on the seat across the desk from Javert before he could even respond. It was obvious that he was not amused; his brow was creased into a hard frown. 

“I heard about what happened this morning and I heard about your reaction,” he said, his voice remained soft but Javert wasn't sure he'd ever heard Valjean use any other sort of tone. 

“And you think I did the wrong thing?” 

“Yes,” he replied, with only a small delay, “I don't think you should report them to the police.”

“Why would I not?” Javert asked, “They've committed a crime and should therefore be punished.”

At this Valjean sighed loudly. He sat forward in his chair and uncrossed his legs. 

“They're troubled kids that need our help and support,” he sighed, “Giving them a criminal record isn't going to benefit anyone.”

Javert had been in a bad enough mood before Valjean had burst in. Now it was quickly becoming an utterly terrible mood. He could feel the anger bubbling up inside him. 

“They have committed a crime,” he said, through gritted teeth.

“Stop just repeating that!” Valjean exclaimed, his voice raised considerably, “You need to learn to understand that sometimes there are better ways to go about things than your black and white rules!”

“Then overrule me! Order me to do something and I'll do it, you are my boss after all!” Javert replied, raising his voice to match the other man's. 

“I won't do that. I want you to agree with me, to see that your response to this situation is totally wrong!”

They stared at each other in silence for a long while after that. Neither wanted to be the first to crack or show any weakness. If Javert wasn't so angry himself, he might have been impressed by how easily he had managed to anger the always calm Principal. 

“You're so narrow minded!” Valjean almost muttered, hardly breaking the silence at all, “You don't understand where these kids come from. Their parents don't give a shit about them, actually no one does. You need to be able to sympathise with them.”

Javert had to get out of that room immediately, before he said something that he would really regret. He stood up and managed to march to the door. In fact, he was half way through opening the door when a hand appeared and slammed it shut. The arm didn't move when Javert turned back around into the room. 

“Let me open the door.”

“No,” Valjean replied, “You can't just storm off whenever I say something you disagree with. If you could just learn to step into other people's shoes. If you could understand where these kids come from, you'd realise there's no need to be so harsh on them.”

Sometimes Valjean could be such a self righteous bastard. He really was not in the mood for this.

“I do understand where they fucking come from, that's why I'm so harsh on them,” he practically spat, “Did you even consider that or did you just automatically assume I was a total bastard?”

As Valjean continued to stare at him, Javert decided to continue his tirade.

“My dad walked out when my mom was eight months pregnant and she never heard from him again,” he said, “To pay for our survival she became a whore and to cope with that she drank herself into oblivion. When she was drunk she either ignored me or took her anger out on me. She blamed me for everything that happened, I ruined her life by being born and, god, she never let me forget it!” 

He'd been staring at the wall behind the other man while he spoke but once he was done he looked back at him. Valjean looked so annoyingly emotional that Javert almost felt bad for putting him in this position. Almost.

It's after that he noticed that Valjean's hand has lowered itself onto his shoulder. He squeezed Javert's shoulder in a way that could be described as tender. Then, suddenly, he was pulled into another of Valjean's infamous hugs.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, “Shit. I had no idea. I'm so sorry.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Explain to me again why the Principal and Vice Principal need to go on this trip?” Javert asked, for the fourth time in what felt as many minutes.

“Once again I'd like to remind you that it may be a little late to have this conversation,” Valjean replied, his voice filled with humour, “We are literally on the plane, after all.”

Javert shoots him a positively terrifying glare but Valjean only smirks in reply. The asshole is enjoying this, he can tell that Javert is nervous about the flight and he is loving it. In the stress of navigating through an airport with thirty teenagers, Javert had somehow totally forgotten that flying was not his thing. That was until he actually stepped onto the plane.

The plane slowly started to taxi down the runway and Javert could feel the blood draining from his face. Deciding that the best course of action was to stare at his own hands, turned out to be wrong and he cursed himself as he began to shake noticeably.

“Why didn't you tell me you were paralyzingly terrified of flying?” Valjean asked, Javert could see from the corner of his eye that the man's smile had faded. 

“I forgot,” Javert admitted, quietly, still refusing to turn to face Valjean.

“How do you forget something like that?” Valjean scoffed, then seemed to regret his outburst as he continued in a much softer tone, “I wouldn't have made you come if I'd known.”

“Everything has just been so intense,” he replied, “There's just been so much on my mind that I didn't even have time to consider it.”

“Until now?”

“Until now,” Javert agreed. 

When the plane began to pick up serious speed, Javert tensed even more. Then when it began to raise off the ground, he was very aware of how panicked he must look. Without another word Valjean leaned in towards him, then laid out his palm on the armrest.

“None of the pupils will see,” he whispered, his mouth so close Javert could feel the breath hot on his ear. 

For a moment or two he considered refusing but then there was a tiny bit of turbulence. His hand surged forward, quickly enclosing Valjean's in a grip so tight that it would probably stop his circulation.

“If you dare tell a soul about this I will make sure you suffer for eternity,” Javert muttered but continued to grip his hand for the rest of the flight.

*

When a group of students are discovered to be missing in the middle of the night in the middle of Manhattan, Javert thinks he may be on the verge of a stress induced breakdown. After a few of the missing student's friends phone them and get no answer, he automatically began to dial 911. However, he finds the phone is quickly plucked out of his hands by none other than the Principal.

“What the hell are you doing?” he seethed, as Valjean pocketed his phone.  
Valjean gave him a knowing look, then motioned for Marius to step closer.

“Now are you going to tell me the truth now?” he asked, “You know I will have to punish them but I will be fair because I always am. What if something happens to them and you don't do anything? I just want to keep them safe.”

Within minutes Valjean had his answer and had jumped in a cab to pick up their missing students. Javert was in awe.

When Valjean arrived back at the hotel, Javert was sitting in the bar. He told himself that he wasn't waiting on him but he wasn't even fooling himself. At first Javert thought he hadn't seen him as he walked straight past but then he realised he was walking the returned group to the elevators. Then he turned back towards Javert. 

“You're much better at all of this than I am,” Javert sighed, taking another long swig of his drink.

“No I'm not,” Valjean replied, “We just use very different methods: sometimes mine work better and sometimes it's yours. It just all depends on the situation.”

“You always seem to know what to do though,” Javert said, he wasn't really sure why he was saying all of this, “I always try to do it exactly by the book.”

Valjean laughed at that and Javert could feel the blush that rose in his cheeks.

“That's exactly why I wanted you,” he paused, “As my second in command, of course.”

To be perfectly honest, Javert wasn't quite sure that Valjean had meant that; it had seemed like an afterthought to cover his initial comment. He wasn't going to say that though. The man was straight, well as far as he knew. He did have a daughter after all.

“See I'm impulsive and I let my emotions cloud my judgement. Sometimes I'm much too easy on people. You're not like that. You're always so calm and calculated. Most of the time I don't know whether to be extremely impressed or extremely terrified or-”

He trailed off after that. Javert wasn't exactly sure he wanted to here what the last option had been. Something about Valjean tonight tells him it wouldn't be altogether appropriate. Then again, he could just be imagining all of this.

“I think I would be better if I was a little more like you though.”

A silence descended and Javert realised that he hadn't offered Valjean a drink. He may be many things but he was not bad mannered. 

“What would you like to drink?” he asked, Valjean looked startled.

“Orange juice, thanks,” Valjean smiled.

“No alcohol?”

“I don't drink.”

“Of course you don't,” Javert almost grinned, as he motioned the bar man over. The same barman that had been flirting with almost since the moment he sat down. Not that Javert hadn't provided at least some friendly encouragement. It had been a good few months since Ed had left and he hadn't even been on a date since then.

After he brought over Valjean's orange juice, he slid a piece of paper across the table.

“Your receipt, sir,” he announced.

“Oh, don't worry, I don't need it,” he replied, he hadn't been a given a receipt for any of his other drinks that night.

“I think you should take it anyway, just in case,” he said, his tone was laced with so much innuendo that Javert was certain his face turned scarlet. The he noticed the paper quite clearly had a number written on it. Without another word he picked it up and shoved it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

He had expected Valjean to look disapproving or maybe embarrassed. What he doesn't expect is him to look so thoroughly angry at the bar man. In fact, his glare follows the man back down the bar for a solid thirty seconds. Surely he must be wrong. Maybe he's just angry at the man for being unprofessional. There has to be another explanation because there is no way that Valjean is jealous.


	5. Chapter 5

Valjean was more than aware that he was in a terrible mood. He had done his very best to conceal it, in fact, he'd managed to do this to a very high standard. However, the thought of having to face his Vice Principal in their morning meeting was not helping. It wasn't that he hadn't grown to like Javert and even enjoy his company. It was just that Javert was a very intense person. 

And this morning is no different. Javert blabbed on about the photocopier, the new janitor, the school play, until finally he seemed to take the hint. For a few moments he watched Valjean in total silence. There was nothing Valjean hated more than being on the receiving end of that stare. He sighed and waited for the interrogation to begin.

“Dare I ask what the matter is?” Javert asked asked.

“It's that boy, Marius,” he sighed, again, even more loudly this time.

“I know he is rather irritating but hardly a reason to be in such a foul-”

“He's dating Cosette,” Valjean interrupted, “She told me last night.”

“Oh, that is bad.”

Sometimes he would really have liked it if Javert had the ability or willingness to lie. The man was brutally honest and although this was a trait he normally admired, today he could have really done with him to tell a little white lie. 

“Actually, you know what,” Valjean said, “Let's stop talking about my daughter's love life. I thought sharing my woe would make me feel better. I was wrong.”

“Fine,” he replied, hardly batting an eyelid as Valjean realised he was about to launch back into this morning's minutes.

“How's your love life?” he interrupted, before Javert could even begin.

“I'd really rather we discussed the photocopier or perhaps we could take turns stabbing needles into my eyes?” he said, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. 

Yet Valjean, for some reason, made the decision to continue.

“Did you text that barman? You could do better but if he's your type...”

“Oh my god, I am not going to have this conversation with you,” Javert grimaced and Valjean took an odd pleasure in seeing his cheeks redden.

“Why not?” he asked, “I think we're something quite close to friends now. Isn't this the sort of thing friends talk about?”

“We're not friends,” Javert snapped, his blush was yet to fade.

“What are we then?”

The question hung between them, awkwardly. Javert opened and closed his mouth, multiple times, as if he was trying to do his best impression of a goldfish. Not only was this a question he'd been wanting to ask; he also got to see Javert flustered.  
“Colleagues.”

Both of them knew that wasn't quite true. Normal colleagues didn't have this strange tension between them. Valjean had never thought about a colleague in the way he'd thought about Javert. It was all exhausting, in Valjean's opinion.

*

“Stop undermining me!” 

Javert's shout rattled through Valjean's office and seemed to shock both of them. 

“If you would stop being so ignorantly close minded about everything, then I wouldn't have to!” Valjean replied, in a slightly quieter tone.

“Or you could stop being so fucking nice!” Javert shouted back, “You can't let students away with things like that just because you feel fucking sorry for them!”

“Stop swearing,” Valjean ordered, his voice suddenly calm and quiet.

“Oh fuck off, Valjean.”

“I said: stop,” Valjean repeated his order while the anger continued to build between them even further.

“How come you can get angry and boss me about but when it comes to the students you're like fun mom who doesn't want to ruin the party?”

That was actually a very good question. Since his reformation Javert was the only human being who had ever made him feel like this, made his blood boil, so to speak. He just could not explain why at any given point he could be mere seconds from making a move or punching him in the throat.

“Because they're just kids! Just because you've apparently been some sort of emotionless robot since birth doesn't mean that everyone else is the same!” he exclaimed, then watched Javert's face fall even further.

“This is really the last thing I need right now,” Javert sighed, as he leaned back against the wall. 

“What do you mean by that?” Valjean asked, his anger towards the other man suddenly being replaced by something akin to concern. 

“Nothing,” Javert replied, his jaw clenching as he spoke, “It's just...”

“It's just what?”

“Nothing. Everything's fucking brilliant,” Javert snapped, folding his arms in front of his chest, a defensive position that Valjean noted immediately.

Without another word Valjean walked over and locked the door, before turning back to face the other man, who did not look ready to talk.

“Tell me what's wrong or you're not leaving,” he said, trying his best to sound commanding and sure of himself.

“You can't stop me,” Javert replied, his arms dropping so that his fists can clench at his sides.

“Oh yes I can,” Valjean grimaced at the thought of having to physically stop Javert, “Do you really think you'd stand a chance against me?”

After a tense moment Javert shook his head and collapsed, sliding down the wall. He came to rest at the bottom where he remained: silent and unmoving. Valjean sat down next to him.

“Are you going to tell me now?” he asked and was rewarded with a small nod.

“Ever since the situation with Eponine and Grantaire a few weeks back I've been trying to build a relationship with the both of them. Grantaire has been a total lost cause but Eponine has really started to trust me, in fact, I've been helping her research how she would go about becoming emancipated from her parents,” the words were tumbling out of Javert's mouth now, he continued, “Her dad found out somehow and his little gang have been making some threats.”

Valjean tensed. This was not what he had been expecting.

“Threats?”

“Oh you know the usual,” he said, “Strange phone calls late at night, letters left in my flat when I'm out.”

“You can't stay there.”

“I have nowhere else to go,” he replied and Valjean felt a terrible pang of sadness.

“In that case you can stay at my place for a few nights until we can work something out,” he spoke using his best teacher voice.

“That'll look great if anyone was to find out,” Javert laughed harshly.

“To be perfectly honest I don't care, as long as it keeps you safe.”

Valjean had thought that statement through in his head a few times before he said it and he knew how it sounded, the implications of it. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted Javert to see those implications or not. He then realised that Javert was giving him a strange look. It would be so easy to lean in and press their lips together. But he doesn't. He can't. He has to control himself. Having Javert staying with him was going to be a very difficult test of his saintly self control.


End file.
